


Just You and Me

by hjbaltimore



Series: The Lernaean Problem [3]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, Hydra (Marvel), Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjbaltimore/pseuds/hjbaltimore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>She didn’t really need the money; her father was more than willing to shell out as much as she said she needed, hoping to make up for the icy distance between them. It didn’t work, but it helped.</em>
</p><p>  <em>That being said, it wasn't every day you got to shake down an honest-to-God superhero for house sitting payment.</em></p><p> </p><p>Kate Bishop is just your average young adult with Olympic level archery skills, an Avenger for a roommate, and way too much free time. When she stumbles onto a local HYDRA cell, the only person who can help just happens a certain unstable super soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Enemies

She didn’t really need the money; her father was more than willing to shell out as much as she said she needed, hoping to make up for the icy distance between them. It didn’t work, but it helped.

 

That being said, it wasn't every day you got to shake down an honest-to-God superhero for house sitting money. It had been three months since Kate had heard from him, and that was three months worth of payment for taking care of bills, chucking spoiled food, and babysitting the dog that he owed her. She wondered if Clint would notice at all if she simply moved in. She rarely slept in her own bed anymore anyway and the apartment was starting to collect dust. A nice collection of her things were already starting to pile up in the spare bedroom.

 

“Hey Kate.”

 

“Jesus Clint, I thought you’d died or something. Where are you?”

 

“Sorry, can’t say.”

 

“Are you coming back soon?”

 

“I’ll be back for like, a week, then I need to head back out again.”

 

Kate flopped on couch next to Lucky, who nuzzled the phone upon hearing his other favorite human’s voice. “Clint, can I just move in? You’re gone all the time anyway, and I’m just wasting money on my own apartment when I could be wasting it here.”

 

“I was actually thinking about that recently…”

 

“Yeah, because your broke ass doesn’t have a paying job now, does it?”

 

“Aw Katie, you know me so well. Then it’s settled, you’ll be my sugar mama, and I can put you officially on the lease when I get back into town in a few days.”

 

“So you aren’t going to pay me for services already rendered?”

 

“Hey, you said it. I don’t get a paycheck anymore. You’re rich. It all works out.”

 

She snorted and rolled her eyes. Maybe she oughta get a real job now after all. Needed something to do all day. She walked over to the balcony sliding doors, and peaked out of the curtains. Technically the whole block was supposed to be residential, but the Kronas building was tall enough that even a couple streets over, it felt like it was right next to the apartments.

 

“So you know the KER building?”

 

“What about it?”

 

“I’m like, 88% sure it’s HYDRA. Ever since April that whole place is just reeking of evil.”

 

“Well yeah, they’re an oil company, of course they’re evil. Doesn’t make them HYDRA. And 88%?”

 

“Mmm. 85%. No but, like, they’ve been doing weird renovations even though the building is only a few years old, getting suspicious shipments of things, having weirdos always hanging around the building…”

 

“And how would you know that?”

 

“I’ve been casing the place for twelve days now.”

 

She held the phone away from her ear as he sighed directly into the speaker. “Just call the cops if you’re so worried. My place may look like a shithole but it’s a secure shithole. You’ll be fine.”

 

“But Clint-”

 

“Ahhhh oh no aliens are attacking! Pew pew pew oh no they got me! I better go. See you on Friday.” He hung up.

 

She glared at the phone. “Asshole. Looks like it’s up to me Lucky.”

 

* * *

 

 

She saw a man stagger from the side maintenance door, holding his abdomen. Blood seeped through frayed sweatshirt and shone bright and sticky in the afternoon light. He glanced around before sprinting as fast as he could down the street and into a back alley, chased by three others heavily covered in thick black padded combat gear, the Kronas logo printed proudly on their backs in ugly green and yellow coloring. A few people stopped on the sidewalk and gawked or whispered in hushed nervousness before scurrying away at a slightly faster walking pace.

 

_Ooh, Clint so owes me a fucking apology._

 

Kate dropped her coffee on the cafe table and grabbed the small, worn gym bag full of whatever spare arrows were lying around the house. The one time she’d brought an actual quiver, she’d received more attention than she was comfortable with.

 

She followed back several yards, though quickly, behind guards who followed the man. It wasn't a particularly hard trail to follow, what with all the blood being left behind. The chase went for about four blocks, ending up inside car shop that had been closed for Sunday. Carefully, quietly, Kate slipped out her phone and snapped a few quick pictures, careful to catch the company logo.

 

Guns drawn, he stood mostly still with his hands up, and the center most uniform took a cautious step forward.

 

“Are you ready to surrender?”

 

He said nothing, but looked ready to double over.

 

“Shoot his shoulder.”

 

With a bang that continued to ring in her ears for several seconds, the man was now leaning against the wall gripping his right shoulder. He made a noise like something between a small wretch and a whimper.

 

“Either submit back to Hydra, or be left to bleed out like a pig on ground.” He grunted as palm full of blood oozed onto the floor with a splat. “I’d choose quickly, judging by the state you’re in.”

 

The ones with guns still pointed tightened their grip and took a small step back.

 

_Shit shit shit shit-_

“Hey bozos!”

 

Only the one in the middle turned around, which was probably for the best as he was the only one to move in time, with the other two now trapped inside net that pinned them to the ground. Either too stunned or unwilling to jump through what glass was left in the broken window, Kate drew the bowstring back and landed an arrow (which midflight popped out a suction cup) square on the last one's face.

 

_God fucking dammit, Clint._

 

She drew again, this time ejecting a small bola that knocked the guard to the ground unconscious before hitting the wall behind them and clattering to the floor.

 

Kate hopped through the window and over the broken glass to the man who, in the split second it had taken her to blink, had already knocked out the other two still fumbling to get out of the net with a couple of kicks to the head.

 

“Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit, that was the most exciting, terrifying thing I have ever done,” she gasped. Her heart felt ready to break her ribs.

 

He seemed to be trying to reach out to her for a moment, only to fall on his left side with a dull metallic clank.

 

“Hey! Hey hey, dude! Mister? Come on, get up. Need to get you to the hospital.” Kate dragged him to a sitting position, struggling to lift any higher.

 

“No,” he blurted. “No, I can’t. I can’t go.”

 

She had already dialed the phone and held it to her ear. “Oh yes you can. You’re going to die. Yeah, hello? I have a man with multiple gunshot wounds, and three armed men now unconscious…”

 

He looked like he wanted to protest further, but hacked out a wet, awful sounding cough. With one last desperate jolt of his body, he fell back down, and drifted away.

 

* * *

 

“Now, you say these men were HYDRA?”

 

“Without a doubt. They said as much when they had John Doe here cornered.”

 

“Do you have a recording of them saying this?”

 

“No, but look, when the guy wakes up he can vouch for me. I live with a damn Avenger who’ll be back in the city in a few days, he can attest to my accountability.”

 

“I’m sorry Ms. Bishop, but the department has been swamped with people claiming their neighbors or coworkers are secretly HYDRA terrorists lately. You and your friend's testimony might help, seeing as 99% of these claims are… less than credible, we'll likely need more proof to start a serious investigation. We can let you know the details of the ongoing investigation later on, but don’t get your hopes up."

 

The sound of paper being flipped, the quick scratch of dull pencil, and finally, a halfhearted apologetic grunt. 

 

"If it helps, the photos pretty much guarantee an assault charge,” they added consolingly.

 

They left the room with a loud click from the door, but there was still someone moving around beside him. Probably the girl. Bucky refused to open his eyes just yet. Best to wait until everyone was gone.

 

Several minutes went by in silence as girl (Bishop, or something) settled into a chair beside the monitor steadily beeping away. She didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. On the contrary, he heard the annoying high pitched ringing of a game people had on their phones nowadays.

 

Maybe he could just brush past her. Bishop didn’t seem particularly muscular, or have any kind of combat advantage over him, disregarding the bizarre bow and arrows from earlier. Though, she might alert the medical staff though, and Bucky was really sick of having to hurt civilians.

 

“I know you’re awake,” she declared suddenly, almost bored. “The little beepy thing here changed like ten minutes ago. Could’ve used your help with the police, you know.”

 

Bucky’s eyes snapped open. He was naked except for a pair of briefs and a hospital gown. His left arm was exposed, but still cloaked to match his flesh one.

 

“I said no hospital.”

 

“You were delirious from blood loss so I ignored you,” she deadpanned, not bothering to look up.

 

His eyes flitted around the room, looking for possible exits. “The police won’t find evidence of HYDRA at Kronas. They’re too smart for that. It’s the same reason they didn’t get outed with most of the other HYDRA affiliates.”

 

The room was small, not much space to move around in with all the wires and equipment. The walls were a beige white, with little black scuff marks on the floor tiles and lower parts of the walls.The window was large and frosted, or maybe just old and dirty, offering a view of the hospital parking lot six stories or so below. The door was the only way out without breaking something and chancing a long drop.

 

“That prosthetic is pretty cool. Is it Stark tech? Like an Iron Man arm?”

 

“Something like that,” he said without really listening. “I was hoping no one would notice.”

 

“Well, no offense but just because it looks real doesn’t mean it feels real.”

 

“How long have I been out?” he asked, carefully pulling out the IV’s.

 

“A few hours. Most of that was in the emergency room. They told it- hey, what are you doing?”

 

He glared. “Look, little girl-”

 

“Kate, and I’m not-”

 

“Kate. I can’t stay here for… probably twenty different reasons, just off the top of my head. Do you know where my clothes are?”

 

“Those rags? Dude, I’m pretty sure they cut them off you and burned them.”

 

He threw his head back and sighed. “Figures. I guess I’ll just wing it.” He pushed himself up, pushing down on the lumpy patch of gauze taped to his chest. It hurt, but nothing started to bleed yet.

 

“Woah woah woah!” She put herself between Bucky and the door. “You can’t leave. You’ll rip your stitches, at the very least.”

 

Almost effortlessly, he pushed her out of the way with his left arm and with one last solemn look back at her, taking off as quickly and inconspicuously as one could in a hospital gown down the hall and around the corner. She sprinted after him, and he was already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  There is a special place for Kate Bishop in both heaven and my heart.
> 
>   
> 
> 
> In case you want to read some canon Kate/Bucky interactions and see where I am very, _very_ loosely basing this story off of, take a look at the one shot [Winter Kills](http://marvel.com/comics/issue/5731/winter_soldier_winter_kills_2006_1). I recommend reading it during the Christmas season for maximum emotional trauma. 


	2. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate continues her Nazi hunt, while Bucky grapples with another failed mission

It kept happening.

He wouldn’t, never in a million years, tell the people at that sad excuse for an intelligence organization that constituted the new S.H.I.E.L.D. There was no doubt in his mind they were good people truly dedicated to the cause, but the fact remained; the place was barely holding itself together. After a few days stay at the base it became painfully obvious he wasn’t the only one hallucinating or being crippled by inane compulsions. How were they suppose to help him when they couldn’t even help themselves?

It kept happening, and James Barnes once again found himself utterly, suffocatingly, alone.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Buck,” said Steve, head nuzzled in the crook of Bucky’s shoulder, his voice low and rippling through every bone in his body. “You know I’m still out there looking for you. Just let yourself be found.”

Bucky let his head fall back against the cracked plaster wall. A condemned apartment building, he’d paid off the squatters already there to leave him be while he camped out in the corner of one of the less mouldy rooms. One of the agents had given him a card with more than enough money for a hotel, but for some reason the idea of it made his stomach turn. 

 

“I messed up Steve. I messed up. I can’t get back in there now. I can’t finish a simple intelligence gathering mission.”

He let out several long, steady breaths. His flesh hand peeled away at the paper thin surface over the opposite arm, revealing the dull grey metal underneath. It was good for trying to blend in, but the digital mask prevented the arm from ventilating properly, leaving it hot to the touch. It wasn't as elegant as the HYDRA one; or rather, it wasn't a totally new one, they just stripped away the broken bits and attached comparatively crude replacements.

“Sorry, our technology just isn’t there yet. God only knows how HYDRA came up with it,” said the man in charge. Bucky hadn't bothered too much with remembering names.

The one advantage was instead of keeping the red star, they painted on Steve’s shield at his request. He found himself unconsciously caressing it when his hands became to idle. It beat falling into violent murder revenge fantasies, which he was also prone to.

“You’re not a threat, Bucky,” Steve mumbled, practically breathing into his ear. Steve’s arms were curled around him in a bear hug that weighed on his muscles. It was comforting, like a heavy blanket. Bucky smacked the side of his head a couple times, and when that didn’t work, thumped it a few times against the wall. Finally, the pressure dropped off his shoulders.

* * *

Surprisingly, she managed to get ahold of Clint again, several days later. It was three in the morning, but even that couldn’t be a good indicator of where he might be. Clint slept at the weirdest of hours.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I was right. Kronos is _definitely_ HYDRA. They yelled it at this guy they were about to spray with bullets!”

“Jesus Kate,” he groaned, “I told you not to do the vigilante thing anymore. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Maybe because of your stupid unmarked ‘trick arrows’, but certainly not because of my incompetence,” she snapped.

“Okay, you’re going to get yourself arrested.”

“Not if I run fast enough.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What did Kronos want with this guy anyway.”

“Hell if I know. He was this big beefy white dude with a metal arm and long hair. He ran off from the hospital before anyone could question him.”

“Metal arm?”

“Yeah. Why, you know him?”

Clint was silent on his end for several seconds, trying to find the right words. “I know who he might be. And the people looking for him. Listen, if you come across him again, stay away. I’m serious Kate, he’s seriously dangerous. I need you to promise that,” he demanded, uncharacteristically serious.

“Geez, alright. I promise.”

“ _I mean it._ I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

* * *

Kate found herself again at the cafe. She doubted anyone at Kronos knew or cared about who she was was, but if they did, they we’re going to have to expose themselves in front of a nice big audience. Either worked just fine for her.

There were both FBI and CIA parked in the small lot on the property, normally reserved for the higher ups of the company.  For hours agent poured in and out with various equipment of boxes of files. Curious onlookers were bored quickly and moved on. 

She’d pretended to be browsing Facebook and Twitter for as long as possible, but had finally given up and was now simply watching it all unabashed.

The waitress came by, snatching up her fifth empty plate since she’d arrived. it was probably the only reason the staff hadn’t given her dirty looks for staying too long yet, as they were apt to do with the stingier customers.

“I heard a suspected terrorist broke into the building the other day. A HYDRA assassin. Or AIM or something. Some kind of domestic group,” she said, refilling Kate’s coffee.

“Really? Is that why the feds are swarming?”

She shrugged. “Normally this would be SHIELD’s thing, but since it crashed I guess the government departments have to pick up the slack.”

“Hmm.”

Another half hour, nothing changed. She got up and went to the bathroom. No sooner had she walked a foot on her way back to her table, a dry, calloused hand choked off any noise.

“Shh, don’t scream. We need to leave. Kronos noticed you.”

Kate twisted around just barely enough to see the man from the other day. He let go, and motioned her to follow through the employee side exit. He led her behind the shop, but not before she took a glance at her table, where a bulky man with sullen eyes was waiting.

“What did he want?” she asked breathlessly, trying to keep pace with the metal armed man. They’d made it a block away before he slowed down.

“I doubt anyone recognized you from the other day. Those guys are dead-”

“They’re _what?_ ”

“-but you weren’t very subtle, sitting there and watching the place for hours. It’d make anyone suspicious.”

“I can’t just leave my stuff there!”

“You want to risk your life for a _laptop_ and _gym bag_?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “That stuff is damn important. Especially if that really is HYDRA. I can’t have them getting that bag.”

He tried to stare her down. Kate pushed into his personal space and, to her surprise, he actually backed up. Not that he seemed scared. More like he was bewildered at the presence of a small aggressive dog barking at him. It only made her angrier.

“Fine. Go back to where ever it is you live. I’ll catch up and bring your stuff.”

“You don’t know where I live. How are you going to catch up?”

He shrugged. “You want to tell me? Not necessary, but it’ll definitely make it easier.”

This guy was unbelievable. “189 Sherwood Street. Apartment H.”

* * *

It was dark by the time the guy showed up, bloodied and bruised and lower lip split, but he had the bag. Kate pulled her eye away from the peephole and let out a sigh of relief. She tapped the security code into the system and opened the door.

Lucky barked, and the man held out his left had as a peace offering. Lucky nipped at him, who didn’t even flinch as it happened.

“Lucky! No, bad dog. Sit down.”

He gave one last low growl before jumping up on the couch, not taking his eyes off the two humans for a second.

“It’s alright. I can’t really feel pain or anything in it.”

She unzipped the bag. Everything was there, plus her laptop that looked a little more scratched than when she’d left it.

“What happened?”

With some difficulty, wincing at the pain, he procured a black flash drive from his pocket. “I got what I needed.”

* * *

“So you must be rich, huh?”

She nodded to his arm, apparently still assuming Stark tech despite the unrefined appearance. Bucky wondered what Howard’s son was even doing these days that made her think that. Did they still make weapons? Did they make expensive prosthetics now? 

She had ordered them take-out, though neither were too interested in the food. Lucky happily gobbled away at the kibble in his bowl, having finally adjusted to the intruder’s presence. Kate was grilling him about himself, and so far had only managed to get an order or Chinese food (which he had picked at random from the menu) and a name, James.

He poked at the soy drenched noodles with a single chopstick and didn’t look up. “Maybe. Though I got a fella who’s probably rich at this point.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “How could you not know? My dad never taught me much, but he did teach me you should always know yours and your partner’s finances so they can’t screw you over,” she said, matter-of-factly.

He shrugged. “Money isn’t that big of a deal. Except for necessities. Besides, I don’t even know if you could count us as ‘together’. I kissed him a while back, but he might not be funny like me. I skipped out before we could discuss it.”

“Funny?”

“Uh, yeah, you know… queer. Whatever people call it nowadays, it’s hard to keep track.” He suddenly grinned, broke out into laughter that practically radiated joy. “I’m pretty sure my mom is the only person in the world who ever used that term. I remember now, not too long after we moved here to Brooklyn from Indiana, she was cooking dinner, she said something like ‘lotta funny people around here, James’.” He traded in his laughter for a grin that split ear to ear in an expression of pure relief.

“Thats awful.”

Bicky still smiled, but more sadly. “I’ll take what I can get. I don’t have a lot of memories of my mom.”

“Oh, she died when you were little?”

He looked like he could fall asleep, propped up on his hand like that. “No.”

More silence. Kate finished her meal while James, who's stomach had growled embarrassingly loud several times, continued to poke at it with the occasional bites here and there (while he literally salivated at each fork full). She tossed her garbage away and, taking pity on the shoulder slumped pile of angst sitting at the kitchen island, turned on the TV for background noise and changed the subject.

 

"So. The flash drive. Does that mean we don't need anymore evidence to prove they're HYDRA?"

 

"In theory anyway."

 

"I can I see what's on it?"

 

He squinted. "Why?"

 

"Because I saved your life and I deserve to know what we risked our lives for."

 

" _We?"_

 

"Those guys could have killed me too if I we just a second too slow."

 

James sighed. "Fine."

 

She pulled out her laptop. The files were not as exciting as she'd hoped; they were full of finance reports and business memos, a few here and there with some scientific jargon.

 

"What does it all mean?"

 

He yanked out the drive and slipped it back into his pocket. "Organizations like HYDRA need a lot of money to operate, especially since now they aren't siphoning off of SHIELD's budget. Kronas Energy Research is a branch division of the greater Kronas corporation, which itself used to be a subsidiary of Roxxon until a giant oil spill led to a company investigation that got them into legal troubles."

 

"I remember hearing about that. I happened around the time I was born."

 

"The president of the company, Alexsander Lukin, was heavily involved with both HYDRA and the KGB for a long time. The files don't implicate him directly, but it proves he has over a hundred former HYDRA members employed in the US division alone."

 

"You mean we don't even get to bring down the guy in charge?"

 

There was the smallest hint of a smile on his face. "It's probably for the best, there's something I want to settle with him personally first."

* * *

Bucky had fallen asleep on her couch. He hadn’t asked and she didn’t offer, but he wasn't kicked out either way.

Steve was in his dreams. He always seemed to be.

It was the good old days of borderline poverty, kept afloat mostly by his dad’s army money. His mom was humming away to the music on the radio in the other room, while Bucky watched Steve doodle absentmindedly. No one said anything. It was quiet. It was home.

He was hot, and opened his eyes to both a blanket and dog draped over his chest.

“I looked up some stuff while you were out.”

“Mhm.”

Bucky groaned and lifted himself up. He must have taken off his shirt before falling asleep, or maybe the Bishop did, for whatever reason. He suddenly felt very self conscious, especially about all the scars,  and even more especially for the ones around the arm socket. He looked at her, but she’d deliberately turned away.

“It’s an honor to meet you Sergeant Barnes.”

A jolt of panic swept through his body.

“The same to you, Ms. Bishop.” There wasn't any real emotion behind the words.

“Word on the street is Captain Rogers has been on a manhunt for you.”

Bucky nearly ripped the shirt as he yanked it over his body.

“He’s not the type to give up. So I guess you know Steve huh?”

“Eh, kind of. I mean, he’s Captain America, he doesn’t have time to hang out with someone like me. I’ve only met him once, really. Clint knows him better, since they’re both part of the Avengers.”

She walked over to him with a small framed and signed photo of Steve, herself, and an older man (Clint?) whom Bucky felt like he should know from somewhere. Maybe he’d seen him in one of those files SHIELD gave him. Like Bishop, the man held a bow and arrow and were laughing. Steve had on a smile that wasn't quite happy, but not as cynical as his Captain America media smile. He held the frame in his hands. At least Steve wasn’t totally miserable here in the future.

“So’s this guy your boyfriend or something?” He was a little old for her, but it’s not like there hadn’t been couple like that back in the day. Bucky had just been under the impression that sort of thing was looked down upon a lot more now.

“Ha! He should be so lucky. We’re just kind of roommates, I guess. Friends. He hangs out with me, at least when he’s around. He’s been gone a lot, ever since the New York Invasion. Even before SHIELD went under, he’s just never around anymore.”

Alright, he’ll bite. She clearly wanted to talk to _someon_ e about this. ”What happened to him.”

She shrugged. “He’d never talk about it. From what I’d gathered, it was something like he got captured and forced to kill people. But Clint’s a good guy. I don’t know who or how they did it, but it seems impossible someone could do that, you know? Must have been some weird alien tech or whatever. Clint would rather die than kill innocent people. Hell, he’s always bragging about bad guys he manages to _talk into getting arrested_ rather than taking them out.”

Bucky felt a huge lump forming in his throat. He wanted to throw up.

There was suddenly a harsh rapping on the door. Bucky seized up, pulled a knife from his boot and pointed it at her.

“You called him.”

She looked a little guilty. “I called Clint. I don’t have control over anyone he decides to bring with him.”

“Kate! Kate, is he still in there? Open the door!”

“Kate come on, I forgot my key. Please don’t make us break it down.”

“Hang on! Jesus Christ...” she yelled back. “Just put the knife down, they just want to help.”

Bucky felt his hand shake. “You were stalling.”

“You didn’t seem like the type of guy to wait willingly.” She chanced turning her back and with one last look, she sprinted to the door and wrenched it open.

Clint came bursting in, with Steve Rogers right behind him. Both of their their jaws dropped.

“My window!”

Lucky stood barking away in front of the shattered living room window. The three ran to the window, just in time to see the last flicker of light on metal and brown hair whipping around the street corner.

“Bucky!” he yelled. Clint had to physically hold him back to prevent him jumping down the fire escape.

“Give it up Steve, you’re not gonna catch up to him.”

“I gotta try!”

“You’re going to break your goddamn leg! Did you forget about your shattered foot?”

Kate looked down and saw a thick white cast around his right foot. Barnes’ knife had been kicked off to the side while Lucky sniffed at it.

They caught their breath and, defeated, Steve wobbled over to the couch and collapsed, face in a mix of shock and despair. Clint on the other hand, wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. She normally would have shook him off and laughed with a quip about him being a sap. _What, you think I can’t take care of myself?_ But…

“You okay kiddo?”

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s not like he tried to hurt me or anything. He probably kept me from being kidnapped by HYDRA, honestly,” she laughed nervously.

Steve didn’t move, but Lucky placed his head on Steve’s knee.

Kate didn’t think she’d ever seen such a big guy cry silently before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky, Kate, and lil' baby Vision kicking Hydra butt.
> 
> Next chapter will be posted tomorrow. For realsies. It's not very long, unlike this chapter, that was only suppose to be a thousand or words and instead turned into this behemoth before you. 


	3. Rekindled Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue: Bucky pays his respects before leaving the city.

Bucky felt the wind whistling past his ears. It was unseasonably chilly for this time of year. Then again, there had been a lot of “climate change” or whatever since 1945, so maybe this was normal now.

It was was two weathered granite graves, unattended to except for the the minor upkeep from the groundskeeper: George M. Barnes, loving father. Winifred C. Barnes, loving mother.

His sister was buried around here somewhere. If he hadn’t read it in his own exhibit at the museum in Washington, he wouldn’t have even known. He supposed that should depress him. She was fifteen when he “died”, apparently. It was weird to think he had family members running around. Nieces, nephews... grand nieces and nephews. Did he ever have cousins? God. It hurt his head.

He checked his phone; two-thirty AM, on the nose. The gate was easy enough for him to jump, but not so much for the average person, which is why it actually surprised him when he heard the faint sounds of dead leaves crunching underfoot. He drew his gun and dropped his duffel bag to the ground.

She thrust her hands in the air. “Woah woah! Relax, I’m sorry I snuck up on you.”

It was Bishop.

“There is no way you followed me here.”

She smoothed back her hair and, cautiously, stepped closer to him. “Cap made a list of places he thought you might go if you hadn’t already left the city and we split up. To be honest, I didn’t actually expect to find you. Thought you’d be halfway to China or something.”

Bucky snapped the safety back on and shoved the gun back in his jacket pocket. He turned back around to face the headstones “I couldn’t leave without making this stop first.”

A few tentative steps forward. Kate stood next to him and read the names. At first she’d been afraid it was his own grave he’d come for, before remembering his and Cap’s empty caskets were in Arlington, that were later joined by the rest of the Howling Commandos after living long, full lives. Or so the tour guide for the class trip had said.

She felt sick. “Jesus dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude…”

“S’alright,” he assured quietly.

The two over them seemed to have a lot of silent moments together, Kate thought. She wondered if he’d always been like this.

Bucky picked up his bag and walked off deeper into the cemetery. Kate trotted quietly behind. She felt bad about intruding, but not enough to let him out of her sight. She needed to at least try  to convince him to come back. She didn’t think she could handle ever seeing Captain Goddamn America that upset ever again. Or anyone for that matter. She should really never be allowed to be near crying people ever. For any reason.

They stopped after a few minutes of searching at a large headstone with “PROCTOR” chiseled into the rock and two image flipped cherubs above either individual name beneath it. The name on the right had a bouquet of decaying flowers blocking it; on the left, Rebecca Barnes.

“Aren’t you gonna call Steve?”

“I already did. Sorry.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Tell him I’m sorry, but I just need more time.”

“So why don’t you just tell him that yourself? Just wait a few more minutes with me, please.”

“I can’t.”

“He’s Captain Fucking America. He’s not going reject you. The guy practically worships the ground you walk on, he’s not going to do anything you don’t want.”

Bucky almost laughed. “Even still, I can’t face him. He and I just… I just can’t do it. He’s just… wow. I’m this weird, ugly scarred… thing.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah, that’s what Steve would say too.”

She looked at him standing their, dead on his feet. “So what are you going to do? You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I just figure… get myself sorted out. I don’t just want his pity. God, I wouldn’t be able to stand it. If I let him find me now, I’d never want to leave.”

Bucky brushed past her, hesitantly, until the darkness swallowed him. She didn’t run after him. She didn’t say anything. What could anyone say?

****  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

Bucky made it back to SHIELD headquarters, where he was treated to mercifully quiet round of smiles and nods of approval, with only the director speaking to him at any length.

“Fantastic work, Sergeant Barnes. I expected nothing less.”

Bucky didn’t say anything.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather rest for a while?”

Bucky shook him head. “I have personal matters to attend to. The sooner the better.”

Coulson nodded in unspoken understanding. “Just please,” he urged, “Don’t ever hesitate to ask for help. Even if it’s just for-” he glanced aside, “clean up.”

“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’m certain Aleksander Lukin’s gala next month will go on as planned, minus a few employees that were no doubt an unknown embarrassment to the company.”

“Hm.”

* * *

Despite their offer every time, Bucky declined to stay in the SHIELD barracks. He tried, just once, and felt like he was stuck in a goldfish bowl, and ended up finishing the night wide awake in the sub-basement holding cell. The man being held prisoner must have recognized him, because he shouted to the no doubt numerous hidden security cameras in terror. He eventually ceased his muted screaming and huddled, wide eyed and laser focused on Bucky, against the back wall until he finally left.

“You’ve got a hell of a reputation Buck,” Steve said in amusement. He was running his fingers through Bucky’s hair and kissed the crown of his head. Bucky hummed in satisfaction. It was too easy to pretend it was real sometimes.

Tonight, he decided to spend a little bit of his money on a cheap hotel room. He collapsed on the bed, landing on a couple of still sore bruises and still fully dressed, but fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

“Aw come on Steve, she’s making doe eyes at you. Go ask her to dance.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s looking at you, jerk.”

“Don’t be like that. What the worst that could happen?”

“She could say yes and I stomp all over her feet.”

“If you don’t try, I’m gonna ask her for you.”

“Alright alright! Jeez. You’re the worst friend ever.”

“Yeah I know pal. Now get going.”

Steve crossed the dance floor, narrowly missing having a beer spilled on him. Skin at least ten shades darker than his own made Steve look extra pale (or maybe he was just that nervous) and had flouncing black curls that fell past her shoulders. If he was being honest, Bucky didn’t actually expect her to say yes. Thankfully (disappointingly?) her face lit up, and next thing he knew he was giving two thumbs up to Steve as she dragged him into the crowd.

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky had squandered the rest of his spending money on drinks and was throwing buzzed, flirty glances at the girls a few stools away from him when Steve came back to him. With once last wink, they giggled and waved before returning to their own drinks.

“Done already?”

Steve smiled and blushed. “She said I was sweet, but was looking for someone who could keep up with a little better.”

“Psh, she doesn’t know what she just gave up.”

“Nah, Buck, she was real patient with me. I even got a kiss out of it,” he said, pointing to the red smudge on his lips.

“Oh what? That’s not fair, now I gotta find _two_ girls. Can’t have you showing me up. My whole reputation will be ruined.”

Steve smirked and grabbed Bucky’s hand. He could swear his heart leapt up his throat. He palms were quickly soaking with sweat and he prayed to god Steve wouldn’t notice.

“Nah,why don’t we go home. All that stomping around was exhausting.”

Bucky swallowed around the lump and resisted the urge to lick that stupid make-up off himself. “Yeah, alright. I guess I’ll let you win this time.”

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Bonus~
> 
> Clint ended up staying longer than a week. Because he was "tired", not because he missed them or anything. He and Kate ended up watching a bad movie they could make fun of while Lucky pretended to be a lapdog by spreading out over both their laps.
> 
> "So, are Cap and Bucky together or what?"
> 
> "Oh yeah," Clint said, mouth full of popcorn. "Pretty sure Cap is the only who doesn't yet, seeing as he's pseudo-dating his old flame's grand-niece."
> 
> "Gross."
> 
> "Yeah. It'll never work out. Inter-agent relationships never do."
> 
> "Maybe they just don't work with _you_."
> 
> "Maybe you should shut up."
> 
> \-----------
> 
> For your viewing pleasure, please enjoy this picture Clint's new car being totaled in an amazing car chase.  
> 


End file.
